Fun and good will.  Today we went to the animal shelter and looked for a bunny, "giblets" will be his name. We had a moment of femme-femme mall girldom and cruised the makeup counter, where I managed to trade 6 empty MAC containers for a free lipstick.  Nifty little program, that.

Various hi-jinx:

Here we have, Katie at Disneyland, Ama's birthday blacklight mini-golf, and Fag Football drag show at Akbar.

But, okay, back to the MAC thing.  I used to be obsessed with their makeup, obsessed, I say.  Obsessed the way Katie is obsessed with Degrassi Jr. High.  The fact that I've been through the "Give back to MAC" trade-in thing twice will profess to this.  However, this magical thing happened called the recession, and called me getting older and going on disability and having substantially less disposable income to throw around on things like $16 eyebrow pencils, and I downgraded.

And really, it was fine.  Not as painful as I would have thought.  Here I used to spend my the last $15 from my unemployment check on eyebrow waxes, and now I am pretty happy with drugstore makeup.  Beautiful shimmers, irridescence and glitzy packaging, well...it's all fine and dandy until someone loses an eye and I end up at the free clinic for a potentially cancerous melanoma.

Oooooo, segue.  Yes, there is a blot on my face MY FACE.  And it could be C-A-N-C-E-R.  So today I traded in the six empty compacts I had been carrying around for months for a matte red.

Is that fourth-wave feminism?  It's not that bullshit ribbon pink.  If it is cancer, which I don't know if the Hollywood free clinic will be able to ascertain, I am probably going to find something stronger that tinted whale blubber and probably involving high octane grain alcohol.